


learning to fly

by a_b028



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Middle ages, Atheism, Awesome Frigga (Marvel), Captivity, Character Development, Cheating, Dubious Morality, F/F, F/M, Infidelity, Internal Conflict, Internalized Misogyny, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Weird Plot Shit, basically almost 11k of frigga being a bad bitch, special brothers if you want them to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 20:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_b028/pseuds/a_b028
Summary: The life of Frigga the All-Mother, alongside her scheming, cruel husband and his equally terrible mistress.
Relationships: Farbauti/Laufey (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja/Odin (Marvel), Laufey/Odin (Marvel), Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	learning to fly

**Author's Note:**

> this is set in a completely different au with no magic, but the norse mythology creatures (like jotuns or dwarves) are still present.  
title taken from Pink Floyd's Learning to Fly
> 
> I wrote it for myself, this work is my baby  
and also because I love frigga and my gal deserved better
> 
> special thanks to my friend who helped me through it and encouraged me to publish it here
> 
> enjoy!!

Frigga married Odin when she was 19; she was sweet and naïve, full of hope at the prospect of her new life in completely different world. Not to add that she was happy with her match – Odin was so full of life, not even 30 and already drenched in glory and wisdom. A great, fearless warrior and even better man.

Or, they said so.

The wedding itself was a grand affair. Understandably so – it’s not every day when the king of Asgard takes a wife, no less a wife that is of pure Vanir descendant. Though all rituals were done as they should be done, Frigga felt like she and Odin displeased the gods with their ceremony and marriage. She tried to shake off the dreadful feeling as she thanked everyone – from priests and guest, through servants and even slaves – for their blessings and exchanged ale with her husband for nth time this evening.

As the night progressed, cheerful singing turned into shouting matches, dancing changed into a conquest and everyone seemed too drunk or too invested in fucking to notice their king and queen leaving the feast, Frigga – full of dread and hesitancy – followed her husband to their new chambers.

That night was the gentlest she’d ever seen and felt Odin.

-

Frigga was 23 when Asgard was about to go to war with Jotunheim; she was now less sweet and not as naïve as she was, and Odin turned out to be indeed, a great and a fearless warrior – but also a warlord, liar, and a schemer, which is why she now pleaded him to either make an alliance with jotuns, or leave them alone in their cold, cold world.

“Surely you jest, Frigga,” he grunted from where he was sitting, visibly unpleasant that she had the courage to oppose him in such matter, “They made a transgression! They raided through one of Midgard’s sacred villages and stole from their church – this behaviour deserves punishment.”

“Punishment,” she scoffed with a dry tone, “Punishment _yes,_ but not a whole _war_! Odin, have a sense. They are without a king now, they – _we_ – can’t allow themselves to go to war where so many innocent lives will be hurt.”

“Asgard protects its own,” he replied, “I waited long for a reason to battle with Jotunheim, and they finally gave me one – don’t you care that they destroyed and brought shame to our gods? And as for their king, I heard that jarl Farbauti will be elected for one soon.”

“Farbauti-wife gave birth to their second child not long ago, do you really think becoming a king is now his biggest concern? You know how much jotuns value their family.”

“Farbauti-wife is the more ambitious one between the two, I’m certain she made sure that becoming a king_ is_ his biggest concern.”

“How do you know that?” She asked with a confused expression; she didn’t remember a time where Odin was fraternizing himself with a jotun of Farbauti or his wife range.

“I have eyes,” Odin said mockingly, his tone making Frigga shiver, “And I have ears, dearest Frigga. It’s Farbauti-wife who pulls the strings, and I heard that she’s a cruel, cruel woman. It won’t do anyone well if she becomes the one who rules.”

“What do you mean?” She asked and reached to drink from her husband’s cup.

“Think.” He snatched the cup after she drank from it and took a sip himself, “Jotunheim is now without a ruler. The previous king had a peaceful rule and jotuns, these creatures, will sooner or later demand blood – the raid on Midgard is the perfect example, you think I care about their churches or sacred villages? – and who is better than a dense king with a witty and bloodthirsty wife? She’ll get rid of him rather sooner than later, and jotuns will have their war. And then even _we,_ will be too weak to defeat them.”

She thought about Odin’s words for a moment and something unsettled her, because from whom he had such information? Did he visit Jotunheim himself? If yes, then when? He never spoke of such travels – but then again, her husband is a warlord, and a liar, and a schemer; it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he had his spies watch over and gather knowledge about Jotunheim.

“How are you so sure of it?” she settled on this question, good questions are always rewarded with good answers, “_You_ can get rid of her without a war – send someone to poison her drink or food, she’ll die and even if Farbauti himself questions her death, no one will be able to check what really happened.”

Something akin to annoyance flashed through Odin’s face, as if she insulted him with the very idea of killing Farbauti-wife without a fanfare.

“Do you think I wouldn’t want to?”

He sighed, “But you said yourself, jotuns value their families over everything – it’ll take months before a servant could make it to jarl Farbauti’s kitchen. We don’t have time.”

“It’ll also take months for Jotunheim to gather army strong enough to defeat Asgard’s – Asgard’s with its alliances, no less – we_ have_ time.”

“You underestimate the power jotuns hold.”

“Maybe,” she gave him a sharp look, “But I don’t underestimate war, and I know that it will hurt many. Make an alliance. If they won’t agree to anything you have to say, then you will make himself a conqueror again.”

“No,” he replied sternly, “The council agrees with me, we will go to war with Jotunheim soon.”

She stood up without any other words, and the fact that she – the only person who was believed to be able to change Odin’s mind once he settled on something, and the only person who was able to save innocent lives of thousands – failed, made her incredibly bitter.

-

Frigga was 24 when she waved of her husband to become glorious and feared once more. Due to his promise, Odin decided to attack the jotuns just before the election – he marched off with Asgard’s best generals by his side and thousands of soldiers who left their families and who were ready to sacrifice their lives for their country’s well-being. No one truly understood why the war was happening, but then again, no one truly questioned it. It’s not mentioned often, the fact that asgardians can be equally – if not more – cruel and bloodthirsty as jotuns are.

That day she prayed to her gods, she prayed both for Asgard and Jotunheim’s sake. For all men, women and children that’d be hurt because of this conflict. Call her childish and petty, but she didn’t pray for her husband, he didn’t deserve her prayers.

-

Frigga was 26 when she was blessed, _truly blessed_, for the first time in her life.

The war with Jotunheim was raging, and the whispers of possibility that Asgard will be left without a heir were even louder than before. And then, one day, Odin came back from the battles – smelling and tasting like dust and iron and snow – and they both were so delighted in their reunion that they conceived a child. _A heir._

During her husband’s absence she and the council were the ones who were in charge of Asgard’s politics and economics, because the war was happening somewhere else and the country still needed to be managed. She did what she could. Helped the ones in need, built shelters, started to trade with Nilfheim and prayed every morning and every morning to her gods – and while everyone begged her to go easy while she was pregnant, she didn’t listen. Women all around the world birthed children and worked every day and she couldn’t just stop _now_, not now, when her people needed her the most. Frigga needed to prove, if only to herself, that she was worth the name of All-Mother.

Frigga allowed herself to rest only once, when her childbirth took place – Odin came back shortly before it, and held her through it. It was long and tiring, and after she managed to push the child out she snatched it from between her legs and held close to her chest, so close that no one would be able to take it away. The baby was a boy, born on a warm summer night; bloody red and ugly and already screaming his lungs out – but somewhat he was the most beautiful thing Frigga ever seen. 

Odin kneeled close to her and observed the babe with thoughtful eyes. He took the warm towel from one of midwives hands and wiped the infant’s head as best and gently as he could. Their son opened his eyes and they were blue, like Odin’s, “What shall we name him Frigga?”

“Thor,” she cooed at the babe, “His name shall be Thor.”

-

She was 28 and she was in the middle of feeding Thor when she heard the word that jarl Farbauti and Farbauti-wife were both killed by Odin All-Father’s hand and that her husband and their king sacrificed his eye in that duel.

She heaved a sigh of relief – the war was finally going to end, people could go back to their families and there will be the long-awaited peace – alongside a sigh of worry and dread, because she knew how much it costed both countries and how hard the reconstructions will be. As she looked at Thor’s innocent face, she was reminded that jarl Farbauti and his wife orphaned two children – two sons, if she remembered correctly.

Such a pity, no child, no matter who their parents were, should be left alone like that.

-

She was still 28 when she learned that Odin brought himself a _souvenir _from the cold, cold land of Jotunheim and when she met said souvenir for the first time.

She went with Thor to visit Odin’s study – it was a peaceful evening, there wasn’t much work and the child simply missed it’s father. There wasn’t a single servant wandering through the halls, which wasn’t really surprising since Odin didn’t like anyone prying into his schemes. The guards that stood by the door acknowledged their queen and their crown-prince with a respectful nod, and allowed them inside.

What _was_ surprising, was the fact that Odin wasn’t alone. There was a woman, a _jotun_ woman standing by his desk with a blank expression – even though she was dressed like a servant Frigga knew from the first look that she couldn’t be one. Not a jotun, and definitely not a jotun that looked and carried herself like _that_.

She was tall – like all jotuns, truly – and her skin was in a weird shade of blue, one Frigga never saw on a jotun before. Her whole face was marred with markings of a house Frigga didn’t recognize and she had eyes that looked like rubies Odin gifted her once. She had a big, straight nose and thin lips, and her hair was as black as crow’s feathers. She had that _aura_ around herself that gave Frigga chills.

Odin waved her off absentmindedly and she left – without bowing or sparing a glance at Frigga and Thor.

“Who was that woman?” She asked, simply because she had the right to.

“She is a jotun I knew from my youth,” he explained as if it was obvious, that him and that woman being alone in his study wasn’t anything weird, “I knew her father, and he knew my father.”

“And I am supposed to believe in that?” She scooped Thor up; she decided to play along Odin’s game, “Was she the one who gave you information about Jotunheim’s election?”

Odin looked surprised for a second – he recovered himself quickly but that surprise didn’t get past Frigga.

“Yes,” he answered with as much honesty as he could manage and opened his arms for Thor as Frigga and their son got closer. She noticed that there were two glasses of mead situated on her husband’s desk.

“Fine then,” she replied without getting further into discussion, mostly because she was tired and because Thor was present – and she didn’t want her precious son to be involved in his parents harsh discussions, “Did you look at the plans I left for you?”

“I did,” he replied as he balanced curious Thor on his knee and turned to pull out the papers Frigga prepared earlier.

-

Frigga was 29 when she saw that mysterious woman again, and to be honest she forgot about her – she never expected that Odin would stay faithful to her bed and that jotun intrigued even _her_. If Odin strayed with her, Frigga would let it slip as a one-time thing.

She was wrong when she thought it’d a one-time thing. _Wrong, wrong, wrong._

It happened at a feast – one not meant for amusement, one meant for the gods and only for them. Frigga arrived after she left fussy Thor with his nurse, and as she came inside the hall she noticed that at her husband’s left sat that jotun lady. This time she wasn’t dressed as a servant, this time she was wearing a beautiful white gown; one that contrasted perfectly with her skin and marks of her house. There were crystals woven into her hair, white and blue – and everyone, including Frigga, was looking at her.

Frigga didn’t bother to hide her surprise, she was more mad than she was surprised – it was a feast for the gods; to thank them for their blessings and pray for their mercy. Not for Odin to show off his _mistress_.

“What is the meaning of this, husband?” She asked once she seated herself at Odin’s right. The feast was quieter than usual, but still loud enough to allow them to talk without any fear of being heard.

“Meaning of what, dearest Frigga?” He asked, his voice lacking any bite and his only eye narrowing.

“Do not try me, Odin,” she eyed him with a sharp expression, “How dare you – to bring your side woman on the eve meant for the gods.”

“Side woman?” Asked the voice on the other side, it was as cold as the woman it belonged to, “Is that what you call it here?”

“Do not flatter yourself thinking that you’re anything but,” Frigga replied sternly. The woman – she didn’t have her name yet – turned her head and smiled, there was a gleam in her eyes; she looked as if she could look through Frigga’s soul and bring out the darkest secrets she holds deep down in her heart.

“I’m much more than would like to me to be,” she said quietly and took a sip from her drink. “The mead here isn’t anywhere as strong as the one they have in Jotunheim.”

Frigga looked back at Odin in disbelief, he was talking to one of his closest advisors named Heimdall. Her husband appeared as if he was totally obvious to the tension at the main table, to the stares they were getting from soldiers and politicians alike. As if he was obvious for the fact that he ignored and hurt her, truly and deeply, when he brought this jotun here without bothering to at least inform her of his plans.

-

“I do not care who this witch is,” she said once she came back from checking up on sleeping Thor, “You have to send her back, from wherever you took her.”

“And why is that?” He replied calmly from his place on the bed. “I told you she is a daughter of a warrior I knew–”

“_Why is that?” _she mocked and ignored the rest of whatever her husband was about to say. It was all lies – is this what she’s getting for being married to the glorious Odin All-Father? Unfaithfulness and lies and jotun woman with ruby eyes? “Drop this charade, it’s not doing you any favours. The disrespect you showed today, both for gods and for me – I know you care little for whom all of Asgard prays to, but how could you treat me like that? To come with her without even informing me of that?”

“I won’t send her back because you think I disrespected you,” he said, “I did no such thing.”

“I don’t _think_ you disrespected me, you disrespected me – in front of our people,” she snapped back and lied down next to her husband, “And I said I don’t care who she is, she’s leaving.”

-

She didn’t leave, and despite her anger Frigga expected it to be like this. Though Odin didn’t parade her around like some kind of trinket anymore. Days and weeks passed, and the time for their first talk came.

Frigga busied herself in her study with Thor sleeping soundly in his second nursery next to her. She was in the middle of writing a paper to one of Midgard’s church’s representatives when a soft knocking echoed. Froya, one of her closest servants, came in and said that lady Laufey is asking for an audience – she heard that name somewhere, but didn’t know to whom it belonged to.

“Send her in,” she said and put down her pen.

Lady Laufey turned out to be no one but Odin’s little mistress. Frigga sighed as she eyed her from head to toe – today she was wearing cream-colored robes and her hair was undone. She didn’t bow, Frigga didn’t expect her to.

“Some time passed since that feast and I came here to talk to you in peace,” she looked around the room and sat down on one of chairs, her eyes focused solely on Frigga, “They call me Laufey here, and I mean no harm – not you nor to your little boy.”

“Then leave,” she found herself saying, “I can arrange that for you.”

“I already left, once,” the other woman chuckled darkly, “and he found me and dragged back here.”

“Then explain yourself,” Frigga demanded, “Both you and Odin speak to me in those riddles no one knows answers for.”

“I’d like to tell you that, but he forbid me,” she said, “Told me that you already know enough or something akin to this. And I’d respect his warrant if I cared enough for it, but I don’t so I’ll tell you a _tiny_ scrap of truth you’re so dying to know.”

Frigga hid the sharp remark that danced on her tongue and nodded for Laufey to continue.

“Back when Asgard and Jotunheim were on good terms and Odin wasn’t a king yet, I visited this place often. My father – Ymir – was a honourable man, one of Jotunheim’s first line warriors and a friend of Bor Burison,” she smiled softly, as if she remembered something nice from her past. Frigga supposed that she did. “Me and Odin became close and stayed that way for a long time, but then he became king and I had to leave.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Why do you think?” she asked mockingly, “Women of our range have little to say in some matters.”

“They married you off, then,” Frigga guessed. Who would have thought that Odin’s first love ended with that kind of separation, who would have thought that Frigga wasn’t Odin’s first love, _his only love_, “To whom?”

“Aye, they did,” Laufey chuckled and the sound that followed was quite unsettling, “But that’s all I’m telling you – for now at least.”

“Why don’t you just tell me the truth?” She asked in tired voice.

“I said whatever you are going to have from me now is a tiny little scrap of it,” she replied with a playful expression, “Otherwise it’d be boring.”

-

Frigga returned the favour and visited Laufey when Odin was away on a hunting trip. And she did it out of pure curiosity, really.

Even though it was late in the evening, it was surprising to find the other woman _drunk_ – maybe not drunk, but intoxicated for sure.

“Hello Frigga,” Laufey said cheerfully and stood up from where she was sitting, “Look,” she motioned at the wine that was set on the table, “I asked Odin for a mead from Jotunheim or Muspellheim – local drinks taste like piss.”

Frigga didn’t bother to hide her surprise – first, because of drunk Laufey, second, because it strucked her how casual Laufey was when she talked to her or when she mentioned Odin; not even now, but in their previous talk too.

“I take it you’re quite familiar with drinking customs all over the world?” She mocked as she sat on the chair, facing Laufey.

“Jotuns are known for being good with ale,” She pulled a second glass out of nowhere and poured Frigga a drink, “Also, surely you do not think that these nine countries we know are _all_ of the world.”

“But they are,” she said, “That’s what our gods said and that’s what is written in our sacred texts, there’s no other truth.”

“Please, drop this nonsense,” she handed Frigga her glass and sat down, “Gods said nothing, because they do not exist.”

“You speak like Odin,” she scoffed before she could help herself, “He too, cares little about them.”

“You think who made him an _atheist_?” She said playfully, “When he was but a boy, he participated in every service and prayed till his knees gave out.”

“Oh?” Frigga decided that if she bothered herself to come here, she may as well make some use of this visit, “Keep talking.”

Laufey side-eyed her – Frigga supressed a shiver at that and wondered how can she talk so easily about such topics with the other woman – and took a sip from her glass, “Why? Glorious All-Father never told you of his past?”

“You can tell he missed some important things,” she stated calmly.

“I’d like to miss some of them, too,” she said and plopped her head on her hand. Frigga was surprised how quick Laufey sobered up, “About Odin, I suppose you never knew Bor-King who was a zealous believer and tried to shape his most precious son into one, too. So Odin prayed and prayed, until I came and made him realize that he is wasting his time on gods that are false.”

“How can you speak such flith so freely?” She asked, disturbed by Laufey’s words, “Gods cannot be false, for If not them, who created and shaped the universe?”

“We did,” Laufey looked at her with focused eyes – Frigga suddenly felt as if the other woman was much closer than she was in reality, “From the very beginning when everything in this world was still crawling or toddling.”

“I disagree. We do not have enough power to do that.”

“Oh, we don’t?” Laufey raised an elegant eyebrow, “Then look at your husbands work – his battles, his schemes and his plans. Look around, Frigga. Every single decision of his was rewarded with a different outcome for the world _we_ live in – only we, because I believe that there are more countries than the nine we know.”

Frigga processed the words – and found Laufey’s theory interesting but most likely false. It’s been proved that there’s nothing more behind Midgard’s ocean horizon, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Of course you don’t,” she rolled her eyes, “Odin said the same, except his words were followed by a dramatic stand up from a chair and leaving the room. You’re not going to do that?” Frigga shook her head, “Good.”

“I just don’t get it,” Frigga began, and suddenly felt like a small child who doesn’t know any letters or numbers and tries to argue with an adult scholar, “How can you oppose the church? Priests? The word that gods themselves spoken to the first clerics and scholars?”

“Easily,” Laufey replied, “There is no real evidence that your gods exist, just words –_words_ that were supposedly heard and then spoken and written by random people. I can go out to the village and speak my own ideology and maybe someone in a hundred years or so will make a religion out of it.”

“What about the miracles the gods made,” Frigga argued, because she couldn’t let Laufey just shame her beliefs, something she trusted and cherished her whole life. “All things that are sacred – churches, icons, temples, books; they are countless.”

“They were made by living creatures, jotuns, asgardians, humans, dwarves alike,” she sipped her drink slowly, “And the real cause was not religion, but coin.”

“Gods _were_ real creatures,” Frigga said, “They walked – they still walk – among us.”

“Then where they were when the plague happened?” Laufey snapped, “Where were they when the crops failed and there was hunger in Jotunheim? Where they were, when the Great War took place – when innocent jotuns were killed and jotun children were taken away from their weeping mothers? I didn’t see no gods there, I didn’t see no gods at any point of my life – you know why? _Because they do not exist_.”

Frigga was taken aback by Laufey’s outburst and noticed that her voice wavered a little at the mention of children – could it be that the other woman already had them?

Frigga didn’t want her thoughts to go that way, but could it be possible that Odin took her children? Or worse – killed them – for his own selfish reasons?

“Maybe Jotunheim deserved what happened to it,” she replied, not meaning that. She just wanted Laufey to _slip_, and tell her more.

Frigga didn’t even know when Laufey stood up and came to stand next to her, but she found herself suddenly yanked up by her hair which was grasped in the older woman’s fist and Frigga was met with a furious, red stare, “Do not speak about things you know nothing of. You were here, safe and secure in these golden halls, you know nothing about that war. You know nothing about Jotunheim.”

“Maybe,” she grasped Laufey’s wrist – it was cold – and tried to make her loosen her grip but unsurprisingly failed, “But I know that gods punished jotuns because they raided their temple, because they pray to different ones or do not pray at all.”

“And you’re still talking about your foolish beliefs,” Laufey yanked her hand back but still stood close enough that Frigga could feel the other woman’s cold body against hers, “There was no such raid. And how can you justify Asgard’s – Odin’s – bloodlust by using your precious religion? Open your eyes, Frigga. _Leave_. Go read a book different than the one that is proclaimed holy, check out the maps that were made by so called heretics. Learn to think for yourself and to not just _accept_.”

“You lived that way your whole life and look where it got you,” She breathed, “Parading around by Odin’s side here like an exotic bird, caged like one too – at least I can walk around freely,” she took a step back, “And you speak as if jotuns didn’t want a war, as if they weren’t as bloodthirsty as asgardians. You are a hypocrite.”

“I probably am,” Laufey replied and crossed her arms against her chest, her expression empty of any betraying emotion, “Now do as I said and leave.”

-

That talk didn’t gain Frigga anything besides a headache and mind full of questions and thoughts she didn’t want.

_Was she really justifying Odin’s behaviour? Odin’s reasons for that war? Was she really just standing by this whole time, accepting whatever others threw on her? _

And what Laufey meant when she said that _there was no such raid?_ Could it be that Odin lied to her – to everyone, for that matter – and started that war on his own whim?

And she still fiddled with the thoughts about who Laufey exactly was. She was born from a jotun called Ymir, no one seemed to know her, she was married off to a jotun husband and she probably had children – that’s fate of almost every woman, so that wasn’t much. She was strong and she was experiencing the war first hand, maybe she was a warrior? Even though jotuns do not discriminate when it comes to genders, it’s rare for a jotun woman from higher rank to be a warrior.

Who was Laufey?

Frigga felt asleep, thinking about cold hands and ruby eyes and surprisingly, her husband’s single blue eye.

-

Odin’s one-eyed stare bothered Frigga ever since she thought about it that night after her talk with Laufey, so she asked her husband about it when they were lying side by side in their martial bed, “How exactly did you lose your eye?” She touched the empty, healed patch of skin – Odin rarely took his patch off.

“Farbauti-wife tore it off,” he replied simply and allowed her to examine the wound, “In our duel, after I killed her husband.”

“You duelled with Farbauti-wife?”

“I did,” he said and removed her hand from his face, “And it was a fine fight, as was expected from a daughter of a warrior. But no matter how good her skills were, she lost and joined her husband.”

“They had children,” she moved to lie on her side and faked a thought, “What happened to them? Did you kill them off?”

“Asgardians do not hurt children,” he faced her, “They went off with someone from jarl Farbauti’s family.”

“At least they will be amongst their kin,” Frigga sighed, “A shame, for children so young to be orphaned.”

“Not all people are made to be parents,” Odin replied and rolled on his back, closing his hands on his chest.

“Speaking for yourself?” It was unkind for her to say something like that, because Odin is a king, and as a king he has to attend more important matters than his family. But then again, she thought bitterly, he has time to attend Laufey.

“Maybe.”

-

She tried to find out more truth from what little information she gathered. Asgard’s chronicles were open for everyone who could read to see, so she left Thor to the nurses and went to check them first.

Frigga started with court documentation about King Bor – what happened during his meetings, what was decided and who was present. Bor’s rule was long, and it was too much paperwork to check out everything so she choose only the notes that included something about Jotunheim; and again, nothing much was to find. Trades, alliances, supplies exchanged with Jotunheim during the plague, official payments for weapons, _nothing, nothing, nothing_.

Then she looked at Odin’s documentation, and there was even less about jotuns here – only bits about the war. As if during the time after King Bor died and the war with Jotunheim happened jotuns in Asgard disappeared.

And that was weird.

-

Life went on, and Frigga still knew _nothing_.

-

Frigga often thought about their discussion – she never told Odin about it – and in a blink of an eye somewhere between her 29th and 30th mark, Laufey went from lady Laufey to Laufey-Consort.

-

One day, when she was busy, a letter arrived – with a note inside. What she could see was a scrappily written piece of paper with what she recognized was Odin’s handwriting; the piece looked old and worn out, and it’s content read:

_Nal_,

_My father left for a hunt; get rid of Farbauti and come to the winter palace – or better, reply back, maybe I shall visit you._

What even is this? Frigga though, did Odin get himself another trinket – or was it another flame from the past? And the Farbauti mention just seemed ridiculous. Why would Odin associate himself with a person that knew one of Jotunheim’s finest warrior? Why did he need said person to get rid of him?

It didn’t make sense, especially since Farbauti was long dead – and so was Odin’s father.

-

“Heimdall,” Frigga greeted her husband’s most trusted servant, “I have a question for you, and you must remember that you are to answer it. You have to obey your queen as much as you obey your king.”

Heimdall bowed, “If the question is good and not one the All-Father forbid me answering, I will.”

She nodded and popped two buttons of her dress to reveal a breast pocket with a note she read earlier, “I received this a few days ago,” she held it up, “I recall Farbauti and my father in-law but I have no idea who Nal is.”

His eyes widened – it was the biggest change of expression she had seen on him this past few weeks – but he quickly collected himself, “I don’t think it’s my place to answer that question.”

“Then whose?” she replied angrily, “No one in this palace ever speaks anything – it’s all either riddles or unanswered pleas – I tire of it. I want to know who this Nal was, and you will tell me.”

“I see that you already decided,” he said, “Tis’ not my secret to reveal – I am sorry, your highness.”

Frigga breathed in and out and tried to remain calm – but failed miserably. She simply was tired, _worn out _by this whole situation, “You, as Odin’s most trusted servant should understand me.” She began, “I devoted my whole life to Asgard – it’s people and it’s king. I did everything and more I had to do as a wife and he still betrayed me. Humiliated me out there for everyone to see. All women around me say I should accept that, that no man stays faithful, but I can’t.”

She took another sharp breath and turned around, “Don’t I deserve to know the truth?”

Frigga didn’t know Heimdall’s expression, but she imagined it to be pained and conflicted, “I’m sorry, All-Mother, there’s nothing I can do for you in this field.”

She sobbed – honest to gods sobbed – because the disappointment that overcame her was just too much to handle, “I cannot believe this.”

She looked around the room with her vision blurred with tears, her frustration achieved its highest form – Frigga wanted to destroy something, and she did.

She took a few steps to a bookshelf that stood in Heimdall’s study and started throwing century-old books on the floor, not caring wherever or no something happens to them. She moved to his desk and simply threw whatever papers – letters, lists, scripts alike – were left on it onto the floor. Heimdall didn’t deserve it, not really, but this was something she needed to do so she wouldn’t lose her mind.

“I just,” a crack from a broken vase echoed, “Don’t understand,” and another, “Why is everyone so scared of truth?”

She stepped to destroy another bookshelf when Heimdall appeared in front of her and held her wrists, “Please stop,” he whispered, his expression half worried, half sympathetic, “I will tell you one thing, it’s not much but that’s all I can do.

Jotuns tend to have a second, or even a third or fourth name. There are names reserved for family, friends, allies, _lovers_ – you name it.”

Frigga dropped her hands, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s only one jotun dear to Odin’s heart.”

_Only one jotun dear to Odin’s heart_ means Laufey – then, could her husband’s mistress be this Nal? Was this some kind of secret letter from their youth? The Bor-King mention fit, both Laufey and Odin admitted that they knew each other from the past – but Farbauti? Why jarl Farbauti, and why would Laufey need to get rid of him?

_Why, why, why?_

And then it clicked, could Laufey – Nal – be the cruel Farbauti-wife? There was word that both she and her husband were killed by Odin All-Father himself, and Frigga smiled bitterly because _how could he fool everyone like that?_

To lie, first, to go to war to kill _one_ woman and then bring her back to Asgard, alive and well, and to have her sit highly and proudly on the king’s left for everyone to look at. The_ nerve _her husband had. She didn’t know Odin’s real reasons – no one really knew them – but she had to admit that the scheme he pulled off was simply brilliant. He tricked everyone by letting them think that Jotuneheim is a threat with jotuns boiling and screaming for war and that Farbauti-wife would let them have it. Asgardians bloodthirsty attitude that would have them call for a war not long after helped him with that – he killed two birds on one stone _and_ brought back the woman he oh so secretly desired.

Laufey and jarl Farbauti had two children together and Odin said that they left them to be raised with family. For a moment Frigga felt sorry for her, no real mother should be separated from her children – she couldn’t even imagine what Laufey endured, and what Laufey _did_ to deserve this.

“Thank you, Heimdall,” she said and stared between him and the room apologetically, “I got everything I needed.”

-

“Laufey,” she greeted the other woman. Frigga decided to ask Laufey first, instead of Odin who would most likely give her questions half-answered, “I want to talk to you.”

“About?” Laufey asked absentmindedly. She was sitting in a big armchair clad in furs with a book on her lap, “Last time we talked it didn’t end well.”

“The topic of our discussion wasn’t the best,” Frigga noted as she allowed herself to sit on a similar armchair next to Laufey, “I have questions.”

“Naturally,” she closed her book and turned to look at Frigga with her empty, red eyes that never failed to make her shiver.

“I will ask and you will answer,” Frigga said with as much confidence as she could, “Are you the wife of deceased jarl Farbauti?”

“May he rest peacefully, and may no one bother him during his rest,” Laufey said after a moment of silence and put on a sharp smile, “I am his widow, took you long enough.”

Frigga found herself feeling a little dumbfounded because Laufey just simply admitted that she was married to jarl Farbauti, who was pronounced one of the biggest enemy of Asgard since the war – and even managed to insult her.

“Took me long enough?” she snapped, “You are Odin’s most guarded secret. I know of you being Farbauti-wife from a short note scribbled by Odin and even that, was hard to find.”

“Ah, you got the letter I sent you?” she asked playfully. It’s weird, all of Laufey is weird – she is switching between being dark and scary to bright and witty in mere seconds, “I figured you won’t find much without my help. Like you said – I’m Odin’s secret.”

“Stop with that sweet talk,” Frigga interrupted, angry and surprised at the same. She shouldn’t feel like this because snitching – even on herself – seems a lot like Laufey, “He isn’t dumb enough to pull out a war for a _woman_.”

“Aye,” Laufey agreed, “Odin is many things, but dumb isn’t one of them.”

“Then what was the reason?” She stressed, already tired of this conversation, “He told me that you planned to put your husband on the throne and be his neck and head – then lead jotuns to a war they badly wanted.”

“That much is true, Odin knew that I had potential to manage my country well in my husband’s place” she assured. “Jotunheim’s court lied about the numbers in reports – army was much bigger than we let anyone know, but still needed a proper training. I, highborn daughter of a warrior and a wife of a jarl, could guarantee them teachers good enough to do so. Our main general and a close friend of my father – lord Thrym – supported the idea of war financially so we had also swords and weapons alike. But the main problem was that we were preparing to _destroy_ Midgard, not Asgard.” She snorted, “Imagine our surprise – Farbauti still wasn’t crowned as a king, mind you – when we woke up one day to Odin All-Father and his glorious army knocking on our doors demanding blood and answers why some jotuns raided one of Midgard’s sacred temples or something akin to that.”

“They didn’t?” Frigga asked, “His main argument was that jotuns already destroy territories under Asgard protection and will continue to do so in the future.”

“Lies,” Laufey said casually – as if they weren’t talking about one of biggest tragedies that happened to both Asgard and Jotunheim, “If someone raided that damn village, it for sure weren’t jotuns. At least not yet, we wanted to go for Midgard in a following year.”

“Council took it very seriously though,” she found herself saying, “They were already riled up from the possibility of a war and then the word broke of that raid. Also, why would you attack Midgard? It’s been under Asgard protection for years, it’s plain idiocy.”

“Have you ever been to Jotunheim, Frigga?” Laufey asked and stood up to pour them a glass of mead, Frigga nodded and let her continue, “It’s dark, cold and barren. We needed to go somewhere, and Midgard was good enough for that. Not to add that Asgard don’t actually care about humans wellbeing – at the time it was better to attack and pray to Ymir himself that Odin would turn his head away from them and won’t let jotuns starve through another harsh winter,” she brought a finger to her fine lips, “Come to think now, aye, it was idiocy.”

After that silence settled between them. Frigga got her answers but still wasn’t satisfied – the world _why_ danced around her head ever since she saw Laufey at the feast. At least now she knew other woman’s reasoning, it was cruel but made out of necessity.

“What was happening in Jotunheim during the war?” She asked. Asgard during the war was well enough and remained unbothered since all actions took place on the other side of the conflict.

“It was even darker, colder and more barren,” she said and Frigga could take the hint that she didn’t want to talk about it, “Jotuns were losing their minds, their humanity, really.”

“And what about your family?” Frigga knew starting a touchy subject could end badly, “I know you had two children and Farbauti by your side. They said all of you were killed by Odin.”

“Did they?” she sneered, “Farbauti was killed long before Odin came for us. My sons and I were hidden in a temple among monks and priests – he arrived at the end of the war to settle the conditions of peace. He would spare my children and their privileges if I give up my titles and go back with him to Asgard as nothing but a trinket. I am no real mother, but I wouldn’t let my children die.”

“How did he hide such thing?” She wondered, the only information anyone ever got was Farbauti-wife this Farbauti-wife that. It’s as if all mentions of Laufey vanished.

“Jotuns are very private and value their families dearly,” Laufey explained, “I rarely was out for anyone to see and when I was, I went by _Farbauti-wife _as all wives do. Name Nal that I used in Jotunheim didn’t mean anything here so they all thought that the All-Father just brought himself a whore for amusement.”

“Tis’ doesn’t make any sense,” Frigga said, “Part of the reason he attacked was to humiliate you, but at the end he hid your identity.”

“Probably didn’t want to shame himself and you by getting a whore who was already married and had children,” Laufey replied, “It’s an honour to get a virgin one, but a shame to take a woman that once belonged to another, after all.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” she asked, because it all didn’t have any sense – first Laufey doesn’t want to talk and then she spills the whole truth at once.

“I feared that you won’t find out the truth before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”

Her question remained unanswered.

-

When Frigga was 31, the gossip that Laufey-Consort was with a child began.

The previous year – except the reveal – was peaceful enough. She and the rest of the court accepted Laufey presence – Frigga did because she either appeared with Odin or didn’t appear at all, and court did because what warlord doesn’t have a prize to keep for himself, especially one as exotic as a jotun woman.

Laufey’s _learn to think for yourself and to not just accept_ echoed in her mind more often than not, but in this situation she had no choice.

Odin himself was a different man since the war with Jotunheim ended, Frigga or anyone for that matter could only guess – was it something that happened during one of his battles or maybe was it Laufey’s presence?

Questions and riddles and lies, that’s what this palace was full of.

Thor was growing well and was a very energetic child, she was too busy with raising him and managing her own tasks to care about servant’s idle chatting. However, after hearing it for a few days Frigga decided that it’s time to ask questions. She didn’t want to, because deep down she feared that the answer would be _yes_.

It’s no secret that she prayed to gods to bless her with a second child, despite Laufey presence she and Odin were still close and Frigga was still naïve enough to allow herself to think that her husband loved her and wanted to have another baby.

She had to stop relying herself on that little time he had for her, as he relies on Laufey and Laufey relies on no one.

After one of their nights together, she asked – _simply because it was her right to do so._

“Are the words of servants true?” she began as she turned to face Odin, “Is she expecting?”

Odin looked conflicted – somewhere between expecting this question and not wanting to answer it, then sighed and his reply was something Frigga feared the most. She got up, dressed herself and decided that she’d spend the night in her own chamber, once again – alone with her thoughts. She wanted to scream with frustration, to destroy something, to simply _weep_ – but the tears never came.

-

The news of Laufey’s pregnancy travelled fast and left a bitter taste in Frigga’s mouth, which she tried to overcome with thinking that every child is a joy and a blessing. Everyone in the palace looked at her as if she was made from glass or weak porcelain – ready to crack at any moment. She didn’t cave though, she took care of her child and her duties as she always did; she let their minds wander and didn’t care what came out of it. Thor didn’t know that he’ll have a half-sibling soon and it was a good thing, she could spend time with him without having to _explain_ things.

Frigga noticed Laufey’s growth as weeks passed, she looked to be about four months along – though on a person of her height it’d be harder to guess and Laufey never talked about her pregnancy during their meetings. Everyone tiptoed around her even more as they did around Frigga.

Frigga also noticed that Laufey and Odin seemed to argue more. Her husband was constantly in sour mood and Laufey was even more unkind to the servants or Frigga. Deep down, the thought of them and their _relationship_ falling apart comforted her. She once witnessed their argument during one of the grand meals, Odin and Laufey were talking about something when Laufey suddenly raised her voice.

“And what of the children?” She turned around and asked sourly as she grabbed Odin’s arm – her stomach was outlined firmly against her gown, her face a mix of anger and confusion. _Children_? Frigga thought, _Could she be expecting twins? But there’s no way she could know that. _

“They are fine,” he took her hand to shush her when he noticed that everyone was looking, “Come, you’re causing a scene.”

“A scene!” She moved away from his grasp, “Let them all know how cruel you are to take away innocent children!”

“What are you talking about?” He asked in confusion, but Frigga knew her husband well enough to know it was faked. He stood up and delicately dragged Laufey up; he nodded his goodbyes in the direction of both Frigga and Hemidall, “All children are well, we’re leaving.”

And that was that.

-

After their _quarrel _at the meal everyone started to whisper that Laufey-Consort was losing her mind.

Some said that she was often babbling weird things, other said that she threw plates and glasses at servants – word was that she once she started to scream at Odin and threatened that she will run away. Frigga once visited Laufey with Thor in tow, to check if something really was different. And the jotun acted completely normal – talked in her typical, mocking manner and played with Thor as she always did. It was fine, and as Frigga stared at Thor’s delighted face when Laufey was explaining something to him, she dismissed the gossips. She also asked Heimdall later, if he noticed anything weird and he said that nothing was out of order.

-

The news of All-Father rushing to Laufey’s chambers on early morning along with a bunch of midwives and medics travelled fast. Frigga found herself antsy. It was uncommon for a jotun to have hard labour, but accidents happen and no child should be orphaned.

It was late in the evening when it was announced that Laufey-Consort died in childbirth. Frigga tried her hardest to ignore the overwhelming relief that she felt after she heard the word.

-

Frigga visited Hildur – the main midwife – the next morning. Palace was all quiet and dark, everyone too scared to do anything that could anger the All-Father.

“How her labour went?” She asked sincerely, only to realise how wrong the question seemed in these circumstances, “Besides the outcome, I mean.”

Hildur looked at her with tired eyes, “It was unpleasant from start till the end. Laufey-Consort had terrible birth pains and when the active part started, she wasn’t dilated enough – the babe tore her apart. As for the All-Father, he was present.”

“Considering the fact that fathers’ presence at birth is a custom in Jotunheim it’s not surprising,” she said, “Was he here all the time?”

“Nay,” Hildur said calmly, as if the whole process didn’t affect her at all. Frigga supposed it didn’t, after all she had to deal with dozens of failed births daily. “Laufey-Consort didn’t want him here at first, she caved later – cried that she couldn’t go through it alone. Understandably so. It’s terrible how easy a woman can break, even a woman such as Laufey-Consort.”

“Don’t ever say that again,” Frigga snapped, “Not all of women are built for this.”

“It wasn’t her first though,” she replied with a sharp tone, “She either went through a birth or witnessed a few of them. It’s weird that she pushed too early.”

“What do you mean, it wasn’t her first?”

“She seemed really collected and calm at the beginning – she knew what she was doing and behaved like the women who already had children,” Hildur said quietly, “She tore herself. We– we wanted to try and sew her up but she declined. Odin himself offered his best doctors, but she said nay.”

“Do you know why?”

“There could be many reasons,” she replied simply, “All they spoke before Laufey-Consort’s passing was in hushed, tearful whispers and to be honest, it was not in my interest to eavesdrop them.” She looked at the clock on the wall, “Do you have a need of me, dear Queen? I need to tend to other patients and awaiting mothers.”

Frigga nodded, “What of the child?”

“After, the child was taken from Laufey-Consort arms and moved for cleaning. All-Father left without a word or even a look at his newest son.”

“A son?”

“Aye, a beautiful, blue-skinned infant – his eyes were as bloody red as Laufey-Consort’s. I think she named him Loki.”

“Loki,” Frigga tasted the name on her tongue, Laufey unsurprisingly choose a jotun name for her son, “Tis a good name. Though it’s worrying to know that my husband left the child, Loki cannot lose both of his parents – there would be no one left for him.”

Hildur stopped in front of Frigga and put a hand on her shoulder before living, “You can become his caretaker – the only mother he will know and the only mother who’ll love him.”

“That’s what I intend to do,” Frigga replied. As much as she disliked Laufey, no child should be left alone and she could easily manage two children now that Thor was older – she wanted a second child anyway. If her husband was stupid and bitter enough to blame a small babe of Laufey’s death it’s his choice, though she’ll try to make him realize his mistake. “Now, Hildur, could you tell me where the newest Odinson is?”

-

The first time Frigga held Loki, she felt a similar warm as she felt when she had newborn Thor in her arms. The fresh, soft smell of the child – child that looked exactly like his mother. Straight, sharp little nose, ruby eyes and a mop of black hair on his head. He had similar markings, but they were less prominent, Loki wasn’t a true jotun after all.

As she looked at him she didn’t feel love yet, but she knew it’ll come soon enough.

-

Two days after the tragedy Frigga visited Odin’s chamber.

It was soon, too soon, but there were matters that couldn’t wait – such as Loki’s cause and Laufey’s funeral.

The servants around were quiet and acted like shadows, she thought about asking one of them about Odin’s behaviour right now, but she suspected that her husband just shut himself in his study and didn’t allow anyone in.

She knocked and unanswered stepped into the dim room – the air inside was thick and heave, smell of mead almost unbearable. She noticed Odin sitting by his desk with a glass of questionable beverage in his hand.

“How fare you, Odin?” her question was met with a sour glare, as expected, but that didn’t stop her. She endured far too much pain and humiliation to feel any sympathy for Odin now, “I see and understand that you are grieving, husband, but there are matters that cannot wait.”

“Such as?”

“Your abandoned son, for instance,” she snapped, “This child is not at fault – and to leave him like that without as much as a glance. Have you got no heart, _All-Father_?”

She knew it was cruel to use this title now – of all times – but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Better him be angry at her instead of the children or servants.

“My heart?” He chuckled bitterly, “My heart is now cold and left to rot, and I have no use for another son – Thor easily fills up space for at least three children.”

She took a deep breath, “And what would Laufey say if she heard that you see your son as nothing but a tool – your son, whom she carried for months and for whom she sacrificed her life.”

Odin stared at her and grinned like a mad man he was, “She would have laughed, hard and long, and her laugh would leave a beautiful echo. Just like it did when she declined me and just like it did when she was dying.”

“What?” she asked, “What do you mean _declined_?”

He kept his grin on, “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice who Laufey _really_ was.”

“She was a cunning and powerful woman from what I recall,” she answered.

“Ah – cunning that she was,” he took a sip, “And mean. A mean, mean creature, she was,” he continued, “No one could bound her – not even Farbauti.”

Frigga looked at him weirdly, “But you did,” she said, “She was here.”

“She isn’t here now, is she?” Odin answered with a certain tone of melancholy in his voice, “She managed to free herself on her own terms, as always.”

“What this freedom means if she is dead?”

“Probably everything,” Odin replied and rested his elbows on the table, “You were coddled by everyone ever since you took your first breath,” he put one of his hand up to silence Frigga when he noticed her darkening expression, “We both know it is true. You know nothing of war and you know nothing of what it feels like for one to lose freedom. For some it’s better be dead than chained.”

“If loosing freedom costs so much, why would you bring Laufey here? You should’ve left her in that cold, barren land – where she belongs.”

He looked her in the eye, “I simply wished to bring the woman I love where she _belonged_. Where she was supposed to be.”

Frigga tried very hard not to gape at him, “You are a cruel man, husband,” she said shakily, “When I married you they claimed you to be a great, fearless warrior and even better man. Who I see now is a coward,” she gulped, “A selfish coward that couldn’t let go of his own past. I hope you rot in Hel, alongside your dear Laufey.”

He carefully moved to pick up a glass of mead and drank it, “So be it.”

-

She was foolish to even think that Odin – this cunnig, lying warlord – loved her. He only loved one woman, and that’s because she was his exact copy, because she was the only conquest he failed at, his own obsession.

-

Laufey’s funeral was a modest affair that happened four days after Loki’s birth. She lied in a grand, elegant boat marked with lines of the Royal House of Asgard, dressed in an equally elegant gown. Her hair was loose and it was looking like she was lying on a black hole – ready to suck her up. It was weird to Frigga to see that her body didn’t look like she died four days ago, in fact, Laufey looked like she was sleeping.

Lake Hvergelmir looked exceptionally beautiful and peaceful that day and Frigga thought that gods probably rejoiced that another sinner went to Hel – the air was fresh and light despite the mourning atmosphere.

After the prayers were said, it was time for the boat to be pushed deeper into the lake and it was not the priest who did the dirty work, but the All-Father himself.

Odin ignored his ceremonial wear and walked carefully into the clear, cold water. The boat wasn’t big, so it wasn’t a hardship for one man – especially a man of her husband’s gear – to drag it, and the water certainty helped. He walked slowly, further and further into the lake before stopping and taking a one last look at his _beloved_.

He bend down a little and brought a hand to caress Laufey’s cheek – a movement that left a bitter taste in Frigga’s mouth. He murmured something to himself and looked at the jotun as if she was sleeping and going to wake up in a second–

She obviously didn’t, and the All-Father took his hand back and without a second thought pushed the boat further so the archers could put it on fire. Despite the cold, he stood in the water till the fire disappeared behind the horizon.

Frigga would be lying if she didn’t feel a slight sense of the victory at the sight.

-

A few weeks after the funeral, when she was walking down the main hall, she noticed a new portrait hung on the wall – alongside the deceased members of Asgard’s royal family and people most dedicated to the kingdom.

It, of course, was a portrait of Laufey.

She was looking down at Frigga – as always – seated on a big chair that resembled a throne. On the painting Laufey was wearing a white, satin gown and equally white cape that was flowing around her. Her black hair was loose, and she had a beautiful diadem that ended with a red emerald on her forehead – it fit her eyes that were well accented. Her hands were tied on her stomach, and she looked straight ahead. Laufey looked regal and proud, like a queen. A queen in the eyes of Odin she was.

The whole image was terribly mocking, and she didn’t feel as victorious as she felt shortly after Laufey’s body burnt.

-

Frigga was 31 when she became a mother for a second time, and her heart grew even bigger.

Loki was a calm babe, unlike Thor. He didn’t cry much, grew well and was very curious – Thor was very interested in his little brother and from the very first time he saw Loki he promised Frigga that he’ll love him dearly and will take care of him.

The little half-jotun stole hearts, but it was Thor who took a special care of his brother – cherished him dearly, forgave any wrong and protected from everything that was bad. Well, as much as a child could protect another child. It was sweet.

-

Odin tried to soothe her many times, but it was long after Frigga learned to live without her husband.

-

Years went by – her age stopped mattering to her a long time ago – and everything around Frigga changed.

Odin stopped his conquests and decided it’s time for his rest so it was she who managed Asgard’s politics in both her firstborn and her husband’s manner. She sought alliances where she could and tried to repair every bond that her husband strayed during his wars – it wasn’t all that hard, mostly because every single country out there feared Asgard, and it’s better to be on good terms with a kingdom like that than be its enemy.

Her boys grew well. Thor grew to be a spitting image of Odin – in both looks and characters, but the bigger part of him was better than his father’s and he understood that it is better to be a good man than a good king.

As for Loki, he was like a remaining ghost of Laufey.

He talked like her, acted like her and looked like her. Frigga noticed that he loved tricks and pranks alike, and like his biological mother could go from playful to scary in mere seconds. He was very ambitious, and sadly, tended to be manipulative and cruel – especially to his older brother. She wondered if Odin could see the similarities between the two of them.

What she saw was the history repeating itself – because like Laufey once wrapped Odin around her finger, Loki did the same with Thor.

-

Years went by, and Frigga finally found her peace at age 53.

A sudden sickness took her to the bed and she knew that her time amongst the living was limited. She wasn’t mad, though, if it was gods’ plan to end her life so quickly she would follow it. After all, she lead a good life. She raised her sons to be – despite their flaws – good men, she managed her country as well as she could and she was a good wife to Odin.

She respected gods’ laws and followed them her whole life, and after the hardships they sent on her Frigga expected a place in the great Valhalla. Her only true regret was the fact that she wouldn’t see Thor as a king and that she did not live to meet any of expected grandchildren.

In her last hours she made peace with her husband – a man with whom she spent almost all her life, a man who caused her both incredible pain and joy. Frigga thanked him for his services and for blessing her with Thor, and forgave the fact that he never truly gave her his heart.

It was Frigga’s oldest son who held her hand in the end, with Loki behind his shoulder. It felt good, to be surrounded by people she loved the most in her last moments and wondered if Thor will stay with Odin in his final hour. Or maybe the old, old king will die bitterly alone – she hoped that no, because no one deserved to die that way.

As she closed her eyes and awaited Hel to come for her, the last thing that flashed in her mind was a red-eyed stare of a very familiar woman, then it was nothingness.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos give me life!!!
> 
> hvergelmir isn't technically a lake but it's au so we thrivin'
> 
> wanna talk? [https://alicja0228.tumblr.com/](url)


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